


Love, Accidentally

by roxasfanfics



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Canon Related, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Post-Aizen Sousuke, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxasfanfics/pseuds/roxasfanfics
Summary: They didn't mean for it to happen; it just did. Somehow, in the wake of the tragedy that was the war against Aizen, Ichigo and Rangiku fell in love. As danger rises from the shadows, the two navigate their growing relationship, unsure what to expect as the love between the increases and a new menace threatens to tear it all apart...DICSCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach, nor any of the characters within; these rights belong to Tite Kubo.





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a gift for killercroc from Fanfiction.net! I'm always looking for prompts for my oneshot collection, so please never hesitate to do so... You may end up with much more than you asked for! :3

_No. No! This can't be happening. Why? Oh, why?_ Rangiku thought in panic as she raced over the rooftops of the dilapidated buildings, the crumbling structures that were barely standing, the desolation that was the fake Karakura Town- the desolation that was Aizen's destruction. Panting heavily as she jumped from unsteady rooftop to unsteady rooftop, her golden-orange hair swirling violently behind her as she raced toward the pile of rubble in the near distance, she could feel her heart pounding with the sharpest fear she had ever known.

“ _Gin!”_ she screamed in agony as she hurled herself off the edge of the final dilapidated structure. In a pool of his own blood, seemingly unconscious, he lay far below her in the ruin of the false construction. Her friend, her dear friend who had left her behind, her friend that she loved still despite all the wrong he had committed.

The friend who had been fighting for her all this time.

Nearly manic, she landed lightly beside him and immediately fell to her knees, horrified by the sheer amount of blood that was pouring from the gaping hole where his arm should have been. “Gin,” she whispered miserably as she choked back a sob. Abruptly, he shifted, and with wide eyes she glanced up at his face, where his eyes were just barely cracked open.

“Rangiku,” he mumbled. His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, and Rangiku had to lean forward to hear properly. As he gazed up at her, growing pale as his life ebbed away, her heart felt like it was shuttering into a million pieces. She couldn't even offer him false comfort, or tell him that he would be all right, because she knew that he wouldn't. He was going to die, right in front of her, and leave her for good this time. Without even realizing it, she had begun to cry. The tears flowed in twin rivers down her cheeks, splashing down on his bloodstained clothes. “I'm sorry. I promised that I wouldn’t make you cry again… But here we are,” he chuckled weakly, the faintest smile on his lips as he looked sadly up at her through lidded eyes. With the last of his strength, he reached up with a hand to tenderly brush a finger across her cheek, catching the falling tears that continued to spill from her eyes. “Goodbye, Rangiku,” he murmured softly, and saw no more.

Sobbing, Rangiku caught his hand as it fell, feeling the warmth fade as she clutched it tightly in her own. She called his name to the accursed wind, but that would not bring him back. Nothing would bring him back now. She continue to sob, even as the air grew thick with energy, tensing with raw power as her enemy approached. She should run. She knew that, but yet she could not leave the side of her fallen friend. She could not abandon him, when he had never abandoned her. Even as she heard the soft crunch of sandals over the pebbles on the cracked ground, heard the disdainful chuckle echoing behind her; she would not leave, she would not let go of that hand that was so rapidly growing cold…

Even as she heard the grating sound of a sharp sword being freed from its scabbard, she just continued to silently weep, almost welcoming the death that was sure to come.

Suddenly, the world seemed entirely different. There was a presence there, a powerful one, and yet Rangiku could not sense it in the same way that she could Aizen. She glanced up with a gasp, the tears still fresh on her cheeks, to see none other than Ichigo Kurosaki standing there with his unconscious father slung casually over his shoulder. She recognized him, but at the same time he was different; his hair was longer, and had he grown taller? There was something about his sword, too- it had changed. It was more polished now, more complete, as if he had perfected it in some way.

But the biggest difference was the aura of sheer strength that he exuded. Even next to Aizen, the plague on the Soul Society and the human world alike, Ichigo seemed on the level of gods as he glared levelly at the kind-looking, smiling, homicidal ex-Soul Reaper Sosuke Aizen.

“Rangiku. You're not hurt, are you?” he asked calmly, glancing over at her through his peripheral vision. Stunned by his newfound change, she neglected to respond for a moment before hastily shaking her head. “Good. Now you just stay there. I’ve come to finish this,” he told her before returning his attention to his knocked-out father. “Thanks, Dad. Now you rest,” he sighed as he lowered the body gently to the ground. Rangiku blinked, wondering what had happened to make Ichigo appear so suddenly with an unconscious Isshin, and ignored the conversation that Ichigo and Aizen were having. Suddenly, without warning, the young substitute Soul Reaper surged forward with enough force to leave a rift in the ground, grabbing Aizen roughly by the face before vanishing within an instant. The sheer speed of his movement produced a violent wind so fierce that Rangiku had to shield her face from all the dust and rubble that was thrown up as a result. When it was over, she dropped her arms and stared wide-eyed at the place where Ichigo had just been.

He had _saved_ her.

_What is this… I feel?_


	2. The Beginning

Ichigo groaned slightly as he rose into consciousness, already able to feel the ache of his healing wounds despite still being in the grips of sleep. His eyes fluttered as they struggled to adjust to the light, and slowly the forms over his friends leaning over him with deeply concerned expressions took shape. He was lying on his back, with a simple tiled roof above him, and he was able to at once realize that he still possessed his Soul Reaper powers. _I don't understand. They’re supposed to be gone…_ he wondered in befuddlement as he slowly forced himself into a sitting position.

“Ichigo! Are you all right?” Uryu asked as he knelt down on one knee beside him, frowning that deep frown he pretty much always had on his face. Ichigo sighed in response and lifted a hand to his forehead, feeling a headache coming on just from the simple action of moving at all.

“Take it easy,” Chad advised. The last time Ichigo had seen him, he had been half-covered in bandages and limping on a crutch, but now he was standing in front of him seemingly perfectly healthy. _How long was I out?_ He wondered.

“You've been unconscious for ten days!” Orihime exclaimed, as if she had read his mind. _Ten days?_ He thought in shock. He had been unconscious for extended periods of time before, for sure, but it was always a surprise to learn he had essentially been comatose. _And my powers still aren't gone…_

“You're wondering why you still have your powers, right?” Rukia asked him with a small smile, and since lying was neither necessary nor going to work, he just nodded mutely. “I asked Kisuke about it. He said that losing your Soul Reaper powers would be a gradual process. You’ll pass out twice- the second time, you'll wake up and be a normal human,” she explained to him. “There's no way to tell when that second collapse will occur, however. It could be one day from now, or one year.”

“Well… It’ll happen when it happens, I guess,” he shrugged, but was honestly glad to have it more concretely explained to him. He jumped slightly as Uryu abruptly slammed his fist down against the wooden floor.

“How can you be so casual about this? You’re going to lose your powers, Ichigo!” he shouted angrily. Honestly, Ichigo understood his frustration. He had felt it when he had first learned he was going to be robbed forever of his powers, the thing that had brought them all together. It was strange thinking about the fact that after this, he would go back to being a normal high schooler once more, and would have to leave all his friends in the Soul Society behind. It still pained him on the front, but as far as losing his powers went- he had accepted it.

“I did what I had to,” he responded calmly, and, with a grunt, pushed himself off the ground to stand up and walk to the window of the room. He gazed out at the Soul Society, taking in the buildings, the Soul Reapers walking by as they went about their business, the blue sky above; he took it all in and committed it deeply into his memory. “I knew the consequences when I chose to do this. I’m not angry or sad about it,” he smiled as he glanced back at them. “It is what it is.”

“Oh… Well, okay, Ichigo,” Orihime blinked with a slightly sad look. She had probably been expecting him to rant and rave, to insist that he would fight to find a say to prevent the loss of his powers, or restore them after the fact. Probably, they all had- but he had come to terms with it. In fact, he had thought it for the best. For too long, he had dragged them all into danger, one more perilous than the last- even his friends who had no powers: Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro. He couldn't stand it any longer.

 _Maybe this is the best thing for everybody._ He kept telling himself that, anyway.

Suddenly, out of the blue, he remembered the instant that he had stepped onto the false Karakura Town to confront Aizen. He remembered Rangiku, kneeling over the deceased body of Gin Ichimaru with Aizen right behind her, sword drawn and intent to kill- and she hadn't even moved.

“Hey… Is Rangiku okay?” he asked suddenly, and his four friends gave him highly quizzical looks at the mention of the voluptuous Soul Reaper lieutenant. “Don't look at me like that. The last time I saw her, she was in bad shape. I just wanted to know,” he added defensively with a haughty huff. _Jeez. What's their problem?_

“She's fine. She's been back to her duties for a while now,” Rukia explained as she scratched the side of her face lightly, still looking mildly uncomfortable that he had inquired after Rangiku of all people. “She's currently working, but… Would you like to go see her?” she asked. Ichigo hadn't expected that much, but he supposed that he would like to see for himself that the woman was recovered from the harrowing incident. Besides, the time would soon be upon him that he and his friends should return to the human world, and he would definitely like one more walk around the Soul Society before he was forced to leave. He nodded in affirmation, which made another ripple of confusion travel across his friend group, much to his own befuddlement. He wasn't sure why they were all making such a huge deal over it. Still, Rukia beckoned for him to follow as she walked out of the room, and so after her Ichigo went, through the spacious building and then out the door.

Ichigo plodded along after the small woman in front of him, matching his long strides to hers as he glanced around the familiar collection of traditional buildings that was the Soul Society. Here and there, lower-ranking Soul Reapers scuttled about with their business. Likely, all the upper-ranking officers were busy with their administrative duties, training, or, if they were badly wounded in the Aizen operation, still recovering from dire injury. As far as Ichigo knew, there had been no casualties on their side, and he was grateful for that, at least. _Except Gin._

Rangiku had been crying over his body. He wasn't sure of the history between them- as far as he knew, Gin has been just as traitorous as Aizen was. That being said, he had obtained substantial, fatal injury, and Ichigo knew that Rangiku was not capable of that level of brutality. _Could Gin have turned on Aizen, and ended up dead as a result?_ It was certainly feasible, especially since the man had always struck him as mysterious and cunning, definitely someone who had his own motives and would use anyone and do anything to accomplish them. The more he thought about it, the more likely the scenario became.

“Hey! Watch it, Ichigo!” Rukia whined in protest as he suddenly bumped right into her. Apparently she had stopped in front of the building where Rangiku was, and he had been so lost in thought that he had just kept right on walking into the girl's small frame. While she glared up at him crossly, he sighed and shook his head apologetically.

“Sorry, Rukia. I just have a lot on my mind,” he apologized. Her expression morphed from irritated to something he couldn't quite read, a mixture of concern and sadness. _I guess she was expecting me to get mad and snap back like I usually do._ It was strange. It was like losing his powers had changed his entirely personality- he was almost frighteningly calm. Perhaps it was simply his way of coping with the fact. He wondered if he would go back to his old hot-headed self after it was all over. _Probably. I’m thinking to much,_ he decided.

“Okay. Anyway, she's in there. Just come on out when you’re finished. We need to get you and other back to the human world,” she smiled gently at him and gestured to the door. He nodded to her before ascending the steps and sliding open the wooden sliding door, poking his head inside and blinking as he glanced back and forth down the hall.

“Rangiku?” he called loudly, and his eyebrows shot up to his forehead when he heard a tremendous crash followed by a string of curses. He was considering walking in to investigate the matter when the beautiful woman popped up around the corner, laughing nervously with her hair in disarray and one sleeve of her signature black cloak hanging down to reveal her shoulder.

“Ichigo! You're awake!” she cried happily, smiling at him with bright eyes. _She certainly looks happy._ “Are you here to see Captain Hitsugaya?” she inquired as he stepped into the building and closed the sliding door behind him.

“No, actually, I’m here to see you,” he responded, to which her eyes widened considerably and she actually pointed at herself.

“Huh? Me? What for?” she blinked in utter disbelief, tilting her head up to keep eye contact with him as he walked down the small hallway to stand in front of her. As he did, he could see a faint blush rise to her cheeks, which darkened when he reached out to fix her drooping uniform. “Oh! I didn't even notice!” she cried as he slid the sleeve up her shoulder. “Agh, I bet my chest was hanging out and everything…” Ichigo didn’t have the heart to tell her that she showed an appreciable amount of cleavage on normal occasions. “Anyway, why do you want to see me?” she asked once more.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he answered honestly, and again, she looked utterly confused. _I guess I’m just confusing people all around,_ he thought wryly. “You were pretty upset the last time I saw you,” he clarified.

“Oh! You mean that,” she realized, and her expression grew strained as she tried to keep up a smile. She wasn't fooling him, though. “I was pretty emotional, wasn't I? I guess it was just, you know, the rush of battle getting to my head and everything. I’m all right now. You don't need to worry about little old me!” she laughed and waved a hand dismissively, but the way her bottom lip was quivering and the hint of tears swimming in the corners of her eyes told Ichigo everything that he needed to know- she was lying.

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” he rebuked her firmly, and she visibly flinched at the mild hardness in his tone. Her hand curled slightly as she lowered it, her hand beginning to shake as she struggled to contain the raging emotion inside of her. Ichigo immediately regretted being so blunt with her; he certainly hadn't intended to make Rangiku cry. He really wasn't great with crying women. Sure enough, though, she began to sniffle quietly as tears flowed from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks to fall and splash down onto her large bosom. “Umm… Rangiku, I didn’t mean to-"

“No. I’m sorry,” she chuckled weakly and reached up to wipe her eyes with the backs of her hands. “It was dumb of me to try and lie to you. The truth is, I’m not okay… I know that I should be, but when I’m alone sometimes I just can't help but think about it and wonder if maybe I could have done something differently… Gin was a good person and just wanted to look out for me, and he ended up dead for it,” she admitted painfully, and then, in a soft whisper, she added, “He left me again.”

ichigo looked down at the crying woman with a slightly pained expression, mostly because he hated seeing her in such a state and partly because he wasn't quite how to go about consoling a crying woman. After watching her cry quietly for a moment, he awkwardly lifted a hand to rest it on her shoulder.

“I'm not really sure what went down with you and Gin, either in the past or during the fight with Aizen, but… I’m sure there was nothing you could do, Rangiku. Gin made his choice, and I’m sure he didn't have any regrets about it. I’m sure he was very happy to at least have you there with him at the end,” he told her carefully, hoping he had not said the wrong thing and would end up being barraged by her fists while she called him an inconsiderate idiot. Thankfully, his gamble paid off, as she looked up at him with a glimmer of relief in her teary eyes.

“Yes… Yes, you’re right, Ichigo. Thank you,” she smiled and dried her eyes once more, then took a deep breath to gather herself. With a slight hum of satisfaction, she flexed her arms and straightened up, nearly knocking Ichigo over with those comically large breasts of hers. _I need to learn to keep my distance,_ he thought with a small groan, but Rangiku hadn't noticed. “Okay! I need to get back to work, otherwise the captain is going to yell at me!” she cried triumphantly. When she noticed he was still standing there, she blushed lightly and meekly asked, “So, is it true about your powers? Are you really going to lose them?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he confirmed bluntly. _Man. Urahara and Rukia must've told all thirteen companies,_ he thought in mild bitterness. Honestly, he was tired of addressing the issue. He just wanted it to happen and get it over with.

“I guess that means we won't see each other again… Huh?” she asked quietly, and he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that she was staring at him with this funny look on his face, one he couldn't quite understand. It was almost a level of disappointment he wouldn't expect from the lieutenant- after all, they were friends, he supposed, but certainly not on the level he was with Rukia and Renji, and even that loon Ikkaku. If anything, he was closer to Histugaya. _Still… Why am I sad to not be able to see her, too?_ He wondered when he felt the unmistakable cold claws of sadness grip around his heart. He supposed that it was just an extension of his sadness to see the entire Soul Society go, and he was just projecting that onto her since she was physically there. Still, she looked so sad to see him go that he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Who knows? I may be back at it one of these days,” he chuckled. “If I've proven anything, it's that you guys can't get rid of me that easily!” He was surprised that the laugh felt natural. Maybe, deep down, he truly believed that. He hoped that wouldn't make things harder. Rangiku seemed to be brightened by that, though.

“You're right!” She laughed and reached up to playfully ruffle his hair, to which he responded by giving her a cross look and batting her hand away.

“I'm not a little kid, you know!” he whined, but she just giggled girlishly and continued to play with his signature orange locks. “Hey! Back off!” he cried as she stood up on her tip-toes, and then she tipped too far forward. Since she was very front-heavy thanks to her large endowments, she wobbled precariously before falling right into him and knocking him to the floor. Some god apparently hated him, because Ichigo's face ended up right in her cleavage.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I guess I got too carried away!” she cried and sat up, and Ichigo was too busy sucking in air to notice that she was straddling him. When he did, he cried out in dismay and wriggled backward to escape out from underneath her. She just smiled brightly, as if she was innocent of the implications. “You know, I feel much better! Thanks for coming to see me!” she chimed happily.

“Yeah, I'll say!” he snapped as he hid his fiery red face with a hand, clenching his teeth as he flushed with mortification. Still, he was glad that Rangiku was somewhat back to her old self. Before either of then could say anything more, Rukia poked her head into the building and impatiently called that it was time for him to leave. Rangiku's expression sagged after that, but she bravely put on a smile and stood up to hold out her hand.

“Until we meet again, Ichigo Kurosaki,” she said formally, but there was something in her eyes there, something he could not place, that almost excited him. With a smile, he reached out and took her hand, shaking it slowly.

“Until then, Rangiku Matsumoto,” he answered, and he let his hand linger in hers for a moment, absent-mindedly thinking about how soft and small it was in his own. Then he pulled back, whirling around to rejoin Rukia outside, his mind swimming all the while.

_What is this I’m feeling…?_


	3. I'm In Love?

Rangiku groaned as she slammed her head miserably down on her desk, causing the enormous stack of paperwork she had accumulated over the past several weeks to jump violently; the pracarious tower of forms and reports jiggled like white jelly before abruptly dissolving, sending an appreciable amount of the papers fluttering through the air and scattering across the wooden floor of the pretty lieutenant's office. She cursed under her breath at her own rotten luck, the chair beneath her making a grating sound against the wood as she scooted it backwards to rise from her desk. Leaning over to retrieve the scattered articles, she lifted her head for a moment to blow a few errant strands of her golden-orange hair out of her mouth, and inadvertently ended up looking out the small window to the street beyond. Leaving half of the papers still on the ground, she straightened up and held the ones she had collected to her chest as she walked to the glass panel, looking out at the peaceful Soul Society.

 _It’s been quiet._ In the wake of the Aizen War, the Soul Reapers were hard at work cleaning up after the mess. A few stragglers were still in the hospital, but mostly it was trying to fall back into a regular system of things; many of the superior officers like herself were tied down with logistical matters, and the others were out hunting the Hollows that had accumulated in the human world. The duty had been someone neglected for a time, considering they were remarkably short-staffed and had been attempting to save the world as they knew it for a point. _Plus… We no longer have our substitute Soul Reaper on that front._

It had been strange without Ichigo Kurosaki. He was a remarkable young boy; though he had stumbled into the world on a mere fluke, he had shaken the entire Soul Society to its core with his recklessness and sheer courage. No one really spoke of it, but the change was there; a gloom had been cast over the upper-level officers, especially those who had known him the best. It was like a depressive, invisible fog shrouded the world, like Ichigo had been their sun that had blinked out of life and cast them all into darkness. _That's a rather dramatic way of looking at it. It's not like he's dead,_ she scolded herself with pursed lips as she pondered the notion, and she turned away from the window with a small sigh lest she continue to harp on the boy's forced retirement. After all, he was just a human boy; why should Rangiku be sad about it?

After she had reclaimed the rest of the papers and returned to her desk to get back to work, however, she found that it was not quite _that_ easy to change the tangerine-haired boy from her mind. A scowl forming on her mouth as she gradually lost patience with the boring work, she clicked a pen repeatedly in irritation before throwing up her hands with a cry of relent and jumped out of the chair to stomp out of the office. Naturally, her captain was attracted by the noise, and his instinct that she was probably trying to shirk her work.

“Rangiku, where do you think you're going?” he accused as she grabbed the handle of the sliding door to wrench it open. She glanced over her shoulder at the short individual, who was leaning in the entryway of his own office with his arms crossed and his childish yet hard eyes narrowed. With a dour look, she sniffed haughtily.

“I just want a bit of fresh air. I’ve been working myself to death all morning!” she whined and pulled the sliding door open. Just the wave of cool air hitting her lightened her mood considerably, but she wasn't going to tell _him_ that. “Do you know how much it hurts leaning over a desk with these?” she added and jiggled her massive chest a bit for added effect; though it was most certainly _true,_ she knew it would unsettle her captain enough to get him of her case. It worked like a charm.

“Just don't be gone to long!” he snapped at her, his childlike face turning bright pink with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, before he whipped around to stomp back into his office, his white captain's coat fluttering behind him. Rangiku giggled, pleased with herself for her strategic tactic, before she walked out of the administrative building and quietly slid the door shut behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply and savoring the moment of not doing _work. I think I’ll go for a walk, too! I need to stretch my legs!_ she decided giddily before hopping down the steps, unaware of a few nearby male Soul Reapers eyeing her with slack jaws as her chest bounced with every little hop.

“Hey! Don't you losers have work to do?” snapped an impatient voice as Rangiku landed on the concrete pathway, and she raised her head with wide eyes to see Shūhei Hisagi running off the same pair of lackeys with an irritated scowl. He had his sword propped against his shoulder, trying to seem like some kind of threatening punk, but she just found it cute. He was too busy watching them flee down a nearby side path to see her approach, but when he turned to find her standing right in front of him, his tattooed face flushed pink, a stark contrast to his scruffy dark hair and hard, angled eyes. “Ack! Hey, Rangiku!” he cried and stumbled back. “I didn't even notice you where there!”

“You're certainly asserting your dominance today,” she teased, motioning with her chin to the area where the startled men had fled in terror. “Surely you have something better to do than harass the lower-ranking officers?” Shūhei scowled down to her, but rather than the threatening wolf look he was trying for, Rangiku thought he looked like an adorable puppy trying to scare off a big hound. His scowl deepened as she could not help but giggle at his attempt to seem tough.

“Don't _you_ have some paperwork you could be doing?” His cold rebuke soured her amused mood, and she crossed her arms and tossed her head haughtily, and her long orange hair smacked him roughly in the face. As he whined and held his nose, she continued to stand primly in front of him.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been doing paperwork all morning! I just wanted to go for a walk!”

“All right, all right. You didn't have to hit me,” he mumbled as he tenderly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How are you holding up, Rangiku?” His sudden question surprised her, and she relaxed her posture to glance back at him. His face was flushing again, and though he always wore the same expression of irritation, she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was genuinely worried about her. _What is it with all these people so worried about me?_ Starting with Ichigo, every couple of days or so _someone_ would approach her about Gin's death. Part of her was grateful to learn that people at least cared about her well-being enough to ask, but part of her was also weary of answering the question.

“I'm just fine,” she responded without missing a beat, pouring as much of her happy-go-lucky attitude into her voice as she could muster. Behind the bright smile, though, she was already falling to pieces. _It's been weeks. I should be over it, right? Then why can't I stop thinking that there was some way I could have saved him?_

 _“I’m sure he was just happy to have you there with him at the end, Rangiku.”_ She was shocked at the voice that suddenly chimed in her head, a fraction of a memory that surfaced and then sank back below the sea of thought. _That's right. Ichigo told me that…_ As the image of his face formed in her mind, that awkward smile as he was trying to console her, a warm, fuzzy feeling bloomed in her chest, like warm sunshine falling over the cool morning dew. _Ichigo had been so worried about me._ With everyone else, it just seemed like common courtesy, but with him, it had felt so _different._ Like he couldn't go home knowing that she was sad. That strange feeling that had risen up inside her the moment Ichigo had appeared from nowhere to confront Aizen began to surface inside of her once more. _What is it?_ She didn't know how to describe it, except that whenever she thought about him, she felt like she was floating on air…

Her bubble of introspection was rudely burst when Shūhei impatiently snapped his fingers in her face, startling her thoroughly.

“Earth to Rangiku! I’ve been talking to you for three minutes! Are you ignoring me? What's with that funny look on your face?” he demanded hotly, putting one hand on his hip as he leaned over and bonked her on the top of her head with the hilt of his sword as if trying to wake her from a dream. She lifted her hands to her scalp, pouting as she shielded the area from another round of attack.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something someone told me,” she apologized, and thankfully, he took that at face value and mumbled some insensitive comment or another about her head being full of air. Rangiku's mind was already wandering off again, drifting to the tall, strong man with a cocky smile and bright orange hair…

“You know, it's weird not having Kurosaki around anymore,” Shūhei suddenly remarked, and she flushed, for a moment fearful that he had read her mind and caught her red-handed thinking such compromising thoughts. When she sheepishly glanced up at him, he had turned his angular face to the blue sky above their heads, his wolfish face relaxed as he sat deep in thought. “It's almost _boring_ now.” Shūhei was a hothead, with the desire for a fight always boiling in his blood, but Rangiku could not help but agree with him; she nodded mutely and followed his contemplative gaze to the sky, wondering what the young boy could be doing at that moment.

_I wonder… Does he give as much thought to me as I do to him?_

“Hey! Rangiku! Get your butt in here!” A shiver traveled up her spine at the sheer anger in her captain's voice as he threw open the sliding door and stomped out onto the patio of the administrative building, one of his pure white eyebrows twitching as a scowl disfigured his cute face. “I told you not to goof off, and here you are bullshitting with Hisagi! Get to _work,_ lieutenant!”

“Come on! It hasn't been _that_ long!” she whined miserably and stamped her feet, as if she were a child throwing a temper tantrum, but she knew she had been caught. She exhaled deeply and ran a hand through her fluffy hair, smiling sweetly up at Shūhei. “Well, it's been nice talking to you. See you later!” she chimed and whipped around to hurry into the building, leaving him practically short-circuiting as he overheated with a raging blush.

After Captain Histsugaya was satisfied with the amount of work she had done, Rangiku was finally permitted to leave. She stretched her arms above her head as she strolled out of the building, feeling her vertebrae crack with a series of satisfying pops. As she dropped her arms, she tenderly reached behind herself to rub her lower back muscles, which were aching terribly. “I wasn't made to sit at a desk,” she grumbled to herself as she tiredly marched down the steps. Her gaze were trained at her feet, watching her sandals shuffle across the tiled stone, and she blinked when another, petite pair of sandal-bearing feet appeared in her vision. She lifted her head in confusion, then smiled. “Oh! Hello, Rukia. I didn't expect to see you here so late in the day.”

The raven-haired girl shuffled her feet shyly, looking highly uncomfortably as she glanced away with pursed lips. _She normally isn't so shifty. Is something wrong?_

“I… I have a lot on my mind. I thought a walk would clear my head,” she mumbled. In her large blue eyes swam a mixture of loneliness and sadness. Rangiku stared at her for a moment, wondering what could possibly be the matter with the normally strong, bold girl, until it finally clicked in her mind.

“You miss him, don't you?” Rukia gasped and looked at her, blushing bright red, but after a moment of staring at the lieutenant and possibly considering denials, she lowered her head with a small nod. “I understand,” Rangiku smiled gently. “He was a very good friend to you.”

“What about you?” she asked her quietly, her gaze sliding up to meet hers, and it was Rangiku's turn to blush profusely.

“Wh-what about me?”

“I hear the talk. You've been pretty spacey, lately… And there was that matter of Ichigo going to talk to you right before he left. You, of all people,” she explained. Her voice was low, but it wasn't menacing; it was calculating, almost curious, and those large blue eyes of her were staring at her with such an intensity that Rangiku felt as if that gaze pierced the very depths of her soul. She felt utterly naked in front of the girl. “You love him, don't you, Rangiku?”

 _I… love Ichigo?_ The thought was ludicrous. She, a several-hundred-year-old lieutenant Soul Reaper, in love with a boy from the human world who had managed to wriggle their way into their world with some bravado and a half-baked sword? It was preposterous. It was asinine. It was…

It was _true._

She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she had begun to cry. The tears lingered in her thick lashes before breaking free and sliding down her cheeks, which were rosy with emotion. She raised a hand to her heart, feeling it constrict, but no matter how much she wanted to escape that level stare that Rukia was giving her, she could not look away. _When had it happened? How did it happen?_ Rangiku did not know for sure, but somehow it _had,_ and she had never even know it until right this very moment.

Now, it was too late to do anything about it.

“I thought so. You've always acted a little different around him, you know,” Rukia said, her mouth finally curling into a small smile. In that instant, whatever spell the little enchantress had cast on her vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind, and Rangiku hastily composed herself, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands and controlling her miserable sniffling. _Look at me. A mess over a man I won't ever see again…_

“It's not like it matters. He's back to his old life now,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Ichigo isn't a Soul Reaper anymore.”

“For now,” the small girl mused. “Ichigo's too stubborn to just watch everyone else do the work. He'll try and figure out some way to get them back, sooner or later. I just hope he doesn't kill himself in the process!” she laughed, and despite her high level of emotion, Rangiku laughed, too.

The girls talked for a while, reminiscing in old memories, before taking their leave of each other and parting ways. As Rangiku slowly walked down the path towards home, her mind a maelstrom of mixed emotions, she glanced back up at the sky.

_Could Ichigo love me, too?_


	4. Changes

Ichigo frowned deeply as he walked down the sidewalk, his bright orange hair nearly glowing as the rays of the setting sun cast him in its warmth. He pulled his white uniform shirt away from his neck as he began to sweat under the hot weather, and his dark uniform pants weren't helping the fact. With a small sigh, he tossed his school bag over his shoulder and slid his other hand in his pocket. His frown deepened when he felt the business card in his pocket that he had received from the strange, tall man Ginjo that had appeared in the odd-jobs shop where he worked. _He was a character…_ he thought uncomfortably as he pulled his hand out of his pocket to put it behind his head instead, casting his gaze up to the sky.

It was a rather beautiful sunset. The white clouds were dyed hues of gold as the sun sank slowly behind them, and the bright blue canvas of the sky was slowly being overtaken by red-orange ink. The world below looked like it had been touched by Midas; everything was cast in that golden glow, even Ichigo himself, shining like a gilded statue. He didn't even notice that he had stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk for a few minutes until a car zooming by stirred him out of his quiet appreciation of nature, and he looked back down to the earth with a tiny sigh.

“I'm beginning to act like an old man,” he muttered under his breath as he continued down the path, his long legs casting linear shadows across the gray pathway.

In the last year and five months, he had grown taller- a lot taller. He had moved on from a second year to a third year, along with the rest of his classmates. They had all changed a lot, too. Uryu changed his hair, and actually looked a little less like a nerd to him. Orihime had grown hers out. Chad had gotten bigger, as if he already wasn't a giant. They’re personalities had pretty much remained the same, though; Uryu was still a pretentious asshole, Chad was still silent and thoughtful, Orihime was still sweet and shy. Ichigo was the only one who had really changed all that much. He still fought sometimes, when somebody asked for it, but for the most part he had become more subdued.

 _I guess having my powers taken away will do that,_ he thought wryly. It had been over a year, but he still hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that he was no longer a Soul Reaper. Some good things had come out of it. He spent a lot more time with his family; his dad was still a loon, but his sisters really enjoyed having him around. He got to hang out with his friends more, and it was kind of refreshing knowing that they weren't constantly under the threat of death by Hollow or Arrancar or crazed ex-Soul Reaper captain.

Still, sometimes he just couldn't help but feel useless, especially when he knew Uryu was running off hunting Hollows at Urahara's beck and call. Despondent, he kicked a pebble and watched it skitter across the concrete pathway. He kept reminding himself that he had chosen this path, because he had no other choice and it would be best for everybody, but some selfish part of him just couldn't help but be bitter about it. He longed to hold Zangetsu in his hands again, to feel the adrenaline rushing through his blood and the sweat running down his skin, to hear the ring of steel in the air…

“Shut up, Ichigo,” he mumbled and knocked on the side of his head, as if that would forcibly remove his melancholy thoughts. “It was worth it.”

It really was. As he glanced out into the street, looking out into the quiet town, he reminded himself that he had saved this place and everyone in it. He watched as a breeze whistled across the landscape, gently shaking the leaves that were dyed gold with the setting sun, watched the small cars cruising along in no hurry, listened to the joyful laughter of children echoing from the playground across the street, and was reminded that Karakura Town was altogether _peaceful._ If he hadn't made a stand against Aizen, this place would have been wiped off the face of the Earth.

He kept telling himself that, but somehow it still didn't make it any better.

By the time he trudged through the gate and across the pathway leading to his house, Ichigo couldn't shake the sad realization that he was just an ordinary human now. He kept his gaze trained on his feet as he unlocked the door and shuffled inside, but his head suddenly snapped up when he heard incoherent screeching echoing down the hallway, just in time for his father to drop-kick him right in the face.

“ _You’re too depressed!”_ he yelled at him as Ichigo crumpled to the ground holding his nose, which was streaming blood but miraculously not broken. Infuriated, he glared up at his father, a vein popping out of his forehead as he angrily pointed a finger at him.

“What the hell is your problem?! Do you want to kill me?! I’ll call child services, you crazy old coot!” he shouted at him, but the handsome, rugged man just waved a hand dismissively with a satisfied grin.

“Your reflexes have gotten slow! You’re too in your head. Besides, I know you can take a hit,” he sniggered at him, stroking his beard as he continued to bask in his apparent victory. Ichigo just snorted and dragged himself to his feet, holding his gushing nose and staggering past him to stumble into the kitchen and fumble around for a rag. Yuzu was there as usual, standing over a simmering pot on the stove; she whirled around with a cheerful smile and a happy greeting dancing on her tongue, but when she found that her brother was bleeding profusely and obviously irritated, her smile morphed into a frown and she puffed out her cheeks. With one hand on her hip, she spun on her heels to begin yelling at their father, who had slunk into the kitchen after his son.

“Father! You can't just go around beating Ichigo up!” she cried defiantly and rushed over to hit him over the head with the ladle. His cool persona instantly dissolved, and he began blubbering and begging Yuzu for forgiveness. Holding a bloodied rag to his nose, Ichigo just rolled his eyes and walked out of the kitchen, the sound of Yuzu's high-pitched girly voice and his father's pathetic excuse to pacify her fading away as he marched to his bedroom. When he walked in, he kicked the door shut with a foot and tossed his bookbag to the side before flopping down on his back on the bed with a long groan. _Man… Now my head hurts,_ he thought as his face throbbed where his father's feet made contact. _Damn crazy person._ He rolled onto his side, still holding the cloth to his face, and narrowed his eyes slightly when his gaze fell across his bedroom closet.

 _Rukia used to stay in there._ Since he had left the Soul Society, he hadn't seen her. He had lost his ability to see ghosts, and so Soul Reapers by extension, but he knew that there were ways to get around _that._ He reasoned that she probably didn't come around for a number of reasons. The Aizen War was a massive conflict, and they were probably still cleaning up the mess. Rukia was an officer, too, so she was probably busy with that, too. Mostly though, Ichigo figured that she probably didn't want him to feel bad. _Still… She's my friend. You'd think she’d still try,_ he thought miserably, pulling the rag away from his face when he felt confident that his nose had stopped bleeding. He could almost see her, jumping out of the closet yelling at him that a Hollow was nearby. Things had been so simple back then. How did it manage to get so complicated?

Aizen’s face flashed into his mind, with his wavy brown hair and false kind persona. _Right. **He** made it complicated, _he recalled with a snort, sitting up and rubbing his pounding head. For some reason, he remembered arriving onto the scene after the intense training session between realities, when Aizen had been standing over a sobbing Rangiku with full intent to kill. He had never really figured out what happened between her and Gin, but for some reason, seeing her like that had always stuck with him. Then after, when he had gone to see her and she had seemed so upset despite trying to play it off. _A lot of women I know are like that,_ he thought wryly. _Especially the Soul Reapers._

Rangiku popped up in his mind quite often. Sometimes, he would be thinking about something, and somehow his train of thought would derail to the beautiful, boisterous young woman. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he was as close to her as he was to Rukia. They had only fought together a couple of times. Yet his mind was seemingly bent on her, her beautiful yellow-orange hair that flowed in waves down her small frame, her perfect, smooth skin that he was sure would feel like silk it he touched it, that voluptuous body with curves in all the right places.

“Ugh. You think too much,” he mumbled and flopped back down onto the bed, laying an arm over his eyes as he closed them. Even in that darkness, she danced, smiling at him and reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. He found himself smiling slightly. He liked the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, tousling it gently. It was amazing how it had been so long since he had actually felt it, but he could summon that feeling from the depths of his memory. _But now… I can't ever feel that again._ It made him a lot sadder than he figured it would. Sadder, even, than the realization that he would never see Rukia or Renji again. It was odd.

“Ichigoooooo!” a cheerful voice floated up from outside his window, and he sat up and pushed it open to find Orihime standing on the sidewalk in her work uniform, holding a couple of bread items that she had brought home from work. “I got some extras from work. Do you want any?” she offered him with a friendly smile. Talking to her was definitely better than brooding, so he waved her up and slipped down from the bed to go greet her at the door. He could hear her sputtering shyly and insisting she didn't need to come inside, but he went out there and dragged her in nonetheless. She spent a few minutes cheerfully chatting with Yuzu and her father before she followed the mute Ichigo to his bedroom, where she stood stiffly holding the breads, her cheeks a bright pink color.

“Orihime, you've been in my house before. Sit down,” he huffed as he stretched out on his bead and plucked a bun from the selection she had to offer, chewing on it thoughtfully as he laid an arm behind his head.

“Yes, you're right. I’m just tired from work,” she laughed nervously and timidly sat down at the end of his bed, still blushing. They had known each other for years now, but she still acted so shy around him. _Girls are weird,_ he concluded as he took another large bite of the soft bread. She looked down at her lap, taking a bun and nibbling it in that cute, girlish way of hers, before quietly asking, “Are you okay, Ichigo?” The spontaneous question made him raise his eyebrows.

“Eh? Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn't I be?” he blinked. Of course he wasn't _okay,_ he had lost his Soul Reaper powers and was bored out of his _mind,_ but he didn't want Orihime to worry about him. So, he lied. Orihime, thankfully, wasn’t one to pry.

“I’m sorry. You just… Seem a little off? I can’t really explain it,” she smiled weakly and nervously smoothed down her luscious orangey-auburn locks. _Looks like Rangiku's hair,_ he thought absently. He looked away from her, chewing on the inside of his cheek slightly.

“I’m fine,” he insisted once more, partially trying to reassure himself of that fact. He could feel the business card in his pants pocket, the sharp corner digging slightly into his leg. He had this strange feeling, this abnormal hunch, that Ginjo could help him get his powers back. It was so asinine to think of, that a random stranger he had just met could hold the key to restoring what had given his life meaning, but for some reason he just couldn't shake that suspicion. Ginjo knew so many things about that side of his life, after all, and Ichigo _knew_ that he was hiding something. Really, Ginjo was a shifty character and wasn't to he trusted.

Ichigo just couldn't help it. The allure was too great.

_I could hunt Hollows again. I could see Rukia and Renji and Ikkaku and all of them again…_

_Rangiku… I could see Rangiku again._

“Ichigo? What are you thinking about?” Orihime inquired politely, bringing him back to reality. He turned his gaze back to her to find that she was staring at him with wide eyes, delicately holding the half-eaten bun in her small hands. Her expression was one of deep worry. Ichigo knew he shouldn't bother lying to her, because she was the type to worry anyway. He decided to at least tell a little bit of the truth.

“I was just thinking about how much I miss them all,” he admitted with a small sigh, looking back out the window. The sun was still in the process of setting, dipping below the house across the street in a yellow ball of blazing fire. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see her face melt into one of understanding, and she nodded sadly.

“Yeah… I miss Rukia a lot. She was a lot of fun to be around.”

“Mhmm,” he murmured absently. His mind was on Rangiku again, dammit. How could he bring up one girl and think of another? _Dad must have really knocked my brain around,_ he thought with a slight scowl, running his hand over his face and feeling the tenderness of early bruising. _Ugh… I’m definitely too in my head._

They talked for a little while and Ichigo returned a manga that he had borrowed from her before she went on her way, cheerfully waving and smiling like she always did. He could still see that shadow of worry in her expression, though. After she had left, he exhaled deeply and flopped face-first into the bed, the lingering cloud of depression hanging over him making him tired. He turned his head and suddenly pulled out the business card, staring thoughtfully at it.

_What have I got to lose?_


	5. On to the Future

Rangiku leaned back in her chair with a loud groan, rubbing her eyes vigorously in a feeble attempt to chase the drowsiness away. When she cracked an eye open to gaze upon the mountain of paperwork still lingering on her work desk, another exasperated groan slipped out of her and, instead of returning to work as she ought to, she tipped her head back to gaze upside-down through the window behind her head. _It's been months, but I swear, this stack of work never shrinks!_ She pouted as she stared through the pane of glass through half-lidded eyes. The sky above the Soul Society was the same as always, brilliantly blue with not a cloud or bird in sight. It had been so long since she had seen the sky in the human world, with the blazing sun and the puffy white clouds and hawks coasting the trade winds while little songbirds flitted far below, yet she could recall it so vividly. Everything was boring and dull down here, or at least, that was how she felt ever since Ichigo Kurosaki left.

It had been almost two years since then. Two years, and yet somehow he still wormed his way into her mind with no provocation, intruding upon her thoughts during the day and her dreams at night. Rangiku had tried everything she could think of to chase him from her mind- attempting to date men around the Soul Society, training with her sword, even actually attempting to pour herself into her work like a good Lieutenant should. Yet, try as she may, it wasn’t very long until her thoughts would wander to the tall, handsome, powerful man who she had somehow fallen in love with. Now, she couldn't fall out of it. Even then, in that instant, his image flashed in her mind, smiling confidently as he brandished that ridiculously big sword of his.

“Ugh. Give me a break, will you?” she muttered as she lifted her head up, and the blue sky changed to an equally uninteresting shade of brown, the paneled ceiling of the administrative building. She inspected the wood grain for a moment, tracing the swirling lines with her eyes, before she became aware of the fact that it was awfully quiet within the building. _That's odd. Captain Hitsugaya should be yelling at me to get to work by now,_ she thought wryly and straightened up in her chair to look at the sliding door. It remained shut, bearing its white paper covering to her, and she saw no little shadow beyond it. _Did he go out?_ Now that she thought about it, she _did_ recall him poking his head into the room to announce that he was leaving, but that had been on one of the rare occasions that she was actually attempting to focus on what she was doing. She leaned her cheek in her hand, tapping her manicured fingers against her wooden desk in a steady rhythm. “That was quite a while ago… Surely, he would be back by now. What did he go to _do_ in the first place?” she mumbled. It was a puzzle, but not particularly one she cared to investigate, and so she looked miserably at the stack of papers before her. Just as she was resigning herself to miserable fate and pulling another document from the stack, she heard a voice call from beyond the sliding door. Strangely, it was not her superior's.

“Rangiku. Are you busy?” Rukia called from the other side of the wood-and-paper construct, and she could see her petite silhouette through the thin paper. Rangiku smirked, thinking, _When am I **ever** busy?, _before she cheerfully bid the girl to enter. She and the girl had become closer over the last two years, and though Rangiku would not venture to say that they were by any means “best friends,” she certainly enjoyed her company. Rukia entered the room with that usual serious expression that really didn't match her cute features, and strode up to Rangiku's work desk. “I need you to come with me.”

“What for?” Rangiku hadn't expected that the girl required something of her; it was relatively often that Rukia just stopped by to chat about little things. There was a sense of urgency in her expression, but also a small smile hiding in her thin lips and a sparkle of what Rangiku surmised to be happiness in her big, round eyes. “What is that look for? Spill it, already!” The strange situation greatly unsettled her. It was so out of the norm despite being only a few seconds of interaction.

“We found a way to return Ichigo's Soul Reaper powers.”

Rangiku found herself at a loss for words. She just sat stiffly in the little wooden chair, gazing slack-jawed at the small woman as she attempted to process what had just come out of her mouth. _We found a way to return Ichigo's Soul Reaper powers._ It was almost like some twisted divine providence; she had just been thinking of the young man, only moments ago, and now here Rukia was proclaiming that they had a way to bring him back into their lives. As the notion finally sunk in, she felt her heart jump in her chest, both with excitement and fear. What would happen once he got his powers back? He knew nothing of Rangiku's feelings. Hell, he probably didn't feel _anything_ of the sort for her- and yet, she thought of that day, that last day, when he could not leave without ensuring that Rangiku would be all right, and the sadness in his expression when he had to depart… As her mind struggled to deal with the swirling emotions inside of her, Rukia continued, “I came to see if you wanted to help, Rangiku.” Rangiku swallowed, finally closing her mouth, which had been hanging open for quite a few minutes. She inhaled deeply, bringing a wild wind that chased all the confusing emotions whirling in her mind away, and looked resolutely at her.

“What do I need to do?”

The next thing Rangiku knew, they were scurrying down the streets of the Soul Society, and though she was quite a bit taller than Rukia she was struggling to keep up with her feverish stride. Though Rukia’s face remained stoic and calm, she could tell that she was energized; the mere thought of reuniting with her friend gave her speed, while Rangiku could only trot after her as she struggled to come to terms with the very rapid development. Her mind kept sailing to what the _hell_ she was going to do about this frustratingly insistent love she had for the boy, and it was difficult to ignore it in order to listen to the girl's explanation. “Kurotsuchi's been working on it for a while now. Apparently, if a lot of the upper-rank Soul Reapers donate a small amount of their spiritual energy, and this combined spiritual energy is donated to Ichigo, it can be used to kick-start his own spiritual powers,” she told Rangiku matter-of-factly. It sounded simple, and part of her questioned why it had taken _two years_ to develop such a miracle cure, but she kept that doubt to herself; she was in no position to question the scientific division, especially Kurotsuchi- especially since he was a nutcase. _Well, it doesn't matter. We have it now._

She accompanied Rukia to the headquarters of the Soul Society's research and development division, a spacious building where Kurotsuchi spent an exuberant amount of time developing the newest developments for the soldiers- as well as a multitude of barely-sanctioned side projects, she was sure. They walked through the laboratory halls, their echoing footsteps mingling with the whirring of machines and the sounds of scientists at work, until they passed through a set of double doors into a large room. Rangiku was shocked to see a number of familiar faces there- almost all of the division captains and lieutenants were there, as well as a number of individuals well-acquainted with the substitute Soul Reaper, Hanatarou and Ikkaku and the like. In the center of the room was a pedestal-like table, and situated upon it was a sword; upon close inspection, though, she realized that it was not a sword, but only had its appearance. Instead of a steel blade, it possessed a shimmering one of blue spirit energy.

“Finally!” Kurotsuchi whined in his wheedling voice as she approached. “You're the last. Hurry up and get to it. I’m tired of having all these people in my lab!” _Charming, as always,_ she thought with a small sniff while she approached the pedestal, tipping her head to the side slightly as she inspected the strange glowing sword. She could instantly feel the humming of spiritual energy pouring off of it, the mixture of all the people in the room, a conglomeration of their powers with the ability to restore what had been lost. Nemu, the captain's assistant, was mumbling about what Rangiku needed to do, but it was just dull, static noise in the back of her mind.

 _I can see Ichigo again._ She wondered how many people in the room were dwelling on that thought. The young boy was all their friend, some closer than others. _What will I do when I see him?_ She did not know. Should she tell him how she felt? It was one hell of a bombshell to drop after two years. _Hey, I haven't seen you in forever, but I’m head-over-heels in love with you; are you in love with me?_ She crinkled up her nose at the thought of an awkward confrontation. _Ugh. This is all too confusing._ It was beginning to make her head hurt. She hurriedly shoved thoughts of the future aside as she grasped the hilt of the strange sword with both hands. She didn't need to think about what would come. She needed to think about _now._

 _What matters is that I can help him get his powers back, and that I **will** be able to see him again, _she told himself as she closed her eyes and began channeling her spiritual power. _I want to see him again… And I’ll tell him how I feel someday. For now, this is enough._ Narrowing her eyes slightly, she poured a small amount of her spiritual energy into the sword, feeling it swirl into the mixture it already contained. She wondered if he would be able to tell the energies apart. _Will he know that I helped?_ It was probably inconsequential, and he would think nothing of it- or, perhaps, it would bring as warm a smile to his face as she was wearing the moment she released her grip on the simple leather hilt…

It wasn’t long after that that they heard news of trouble brewing in the human world. Ichigo, in a desperate attempt to reclaim his Soul Reaper powers, had gotten himself mixed up with some excommunicated Soul Reapers who had retained a shred of their powers and had been living underground in the human world; they had essentially been grooming him, teaching him to access the pool of spiritual energy sealed deep inside of himself, so that they could steal it from him and, once they had recovered their powers, wreak their carnage and vengeance upon the Soul Society. They had dispatched a team to deal with the situation, and restore Ichigo's powers to him in the process. Rangiku had not been selected to attend, and to be honest, she was disappointed.

 _I wanted to be there when he got his powers back… I wanted to see how excited he was…_ she thought glumly as she sat on the steps of the building she worked in, her plump lumps pursed as she held her cheeks in her hands. Again, she found herself wondering if he would even care at all if she was there to begin with; well, of course he would _care,_ but would he care like she wanted him to care?  

“Ugh. All this thinking is making my head hurt,” she grumbled as she rubbed her temples in irritation. All she could think about was _if, if, if,_ and she could never get an answer- so much uncertainty and doubt. It was maddening. “I can’t _take_ it anymore!” she shrieked and abruptly jumped to her feet. She _had_ to know, she _had_ to know how he would react to her. That would tell her everything, right? She didn't have to confess to him _now_ , but if she at least could see the _look_ on his face, then maybe, just maybe, she could know if he felt something for her. “I have to see him!” She didn't know if the operation in the human world was finished, but that didn't matter; her mind was made up.

By the time she arrived at the battlefield in the human world, it was already over. The aggressors had been captured (with the exception of one, who had the unfortunate pleasure of facing the bloodthirsty Kenpachi in battle) and injuries had been dealt with. Rangiku stood in the clearing beside the abandoned house that had served at the battle site, standing on her tip-toes to crane her neck and searched for the familiar orange hair that belonged to the man she so desperately wanted to see; then, suddenly, it flashed within her field of vision, walking around the corner. He hadn’t seen her yet; he was back in his body, in his school uniform, and was smiling as he looked down to converse with Rukia.

Rangiku's heart stopped when she saw him, and a million thoughts ran through her mind.

 _This was a mistake. I need to go now, while he hasn't seen me. No! No, I don’t! But wait, will he know something is up, with me just randomly showing up like this? Oh, crap, what are the rest of them going to think? Rukia knows, but the rest of them don't! Surely they’ll think it strange! I can just lie. Yeah, I can say the Captain sent me to check on them. Shit! What happens when they ask him? He won't lie for me! Oh, God, what am I going to say to him?_ As she stood there, practically short-circuiting as her emotions writhed like angry snakes, she did not notice that Ichigo had finally become aware of her presence.

“Oh, hey! Rangiku!” She jerked when he called her name, blushing pink and stiffening like a rod, and turned her wide eyes on him. Immediately, everything in her mind went blank, like she had wiped a chalkboard clean. He was smiling at her, but not the way he had been smiling at Rukia. No, this was different; there was warmth there, hiding in the edges, contained within the dark pools of his eyes. _He’s genuinely happy to see me._ Perhaps it was just because they were good friends, but Rangiku preferred to see it through the rose-colored glasses of love. _Maybe he feels something for me after all!_ In that moment, she forgot everyone around her and abandoned herself to the joy bubbling up inside of her.

“Ichigo!” she squealed, and without warning, dashed toward him and sprung at him when she was within landing distance. He sputtered in confusion, crying out when she crashed into him, but his complaints became muffled; she had jumped a tad bit too high, and his face had been planted right in the middle of her pillowy chest. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she giggled, sitting up so she was straddling him with her knees planted between his arms. He didn't particularly care for that, either, as his face turned bright red and he screeched incomprehensibly at her for a minute.

“Rangiku! What the hell? Do you wanna smother me? And get off! You're heavy!” he finally got out, gritting his teeth at her as he fumed with embarrassment.

“Heavy? How rude!” she snapped and crossed her arms angrily, pursing her lips at him. “I came all the way here to see you, and you call me _heavy_?” She then flushed pink, realizing what exactly had come out of her mouth. He stopped spluttering then, and was gazing at her with slight perplexity. “A-anyway, you got your powers back!” she smiled down at him, hoping that discussing that topic would distract him from her compromising admission. At the mention of the return of his Soul Reaper abilities, a big grin formed on his face.

“Yeah! You helped with that, right, Rangiku?” The question caught her off-guard, and once more, the pink haze appeared on her cheeks. Something along the lines of “What?” must have come out of her mouth, because he continued, “You put the energy into the sword, right? I could feel it.” Her heart did a somersault in her chest. _He could tell…_ It made her exceptionally giddy, and despite herself, she could not keep the bright smile off her face.

“Yes!” she affirmed happily, her eyes closing as her face scrunched up in delight. As she was immersed in her joy, she didn't know that he had reached up until his fingers slid into her golden-orange hair. Her eyes snapped open when he tousled her hair affectionately, and she looked down to see a warm smile on his face.

“I’m grateful,” he murmured. It was a simple enough statement, but it was laced with emotion, an emotion she could not place. She stared down at him for a minute, reading the seriousness in his expression and what was contained within. Then, it snapped back to a goofy smirk. “Now, would ya get off? You've been sitting on me for five minutes!” he whined.

“Oh! Yes!” she squeaked and hastily climbed off of him, straightening out the wrinkles in her uniform while he groaned and climbed to his feet.

“Jeez… Ya nearly threw my back out, Rangiku,” he grumbled, rubbing his back tenderly as she frowned. She just giggled nervously, tugging at a wavy strand of her orangey-brown hair. He ran a hand through his hair, half-smirking and half-frowning. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” she laughed nervously. “So… What happens now?” He smiled slightly and looked off into the woods, as if contemplating.

“Now? The future, I guess,” he mused.

 _The future, huh? Yes… The future, whatever that may hold,_ she thought as she gazed at him softly. She had words yet unspoken, but now was not the time for them. The time was the future, and it would come soon enough…


	6. A Date?

Rangiku raised a hand to shield her eyes from the shining rays of the slowly setting sun. She was perched upon the roof of one of the small homes of Karakura Town, watching while the canvas of the sky was temporarily painted vibrant hues of crimson, tangerine, and gold. The shimmering sphere that was the sun drifted down toward the horizon, melting into the earth as the darkness crept in from the north. Muted tones of navy, violet, and ebony blended into the warm, summery colors like ink across paper, signaling the coming of night. As the darkness encroached, glittering stars blinked into life, hesitantly at first, then stretched out their silver arms to embrace the world. It was wonderful to witness. Sunsets existed in the Soul Society, of course, but for some reason Rangiku felt as if the sky in the human world was much more beautiful than that of the Soul Society- and so, she simply had to stop and marvel at it, though she had an important job to do.

Rangiku had been dispatched to the Human World to attend to a particularly troublesome Hollow. It had severely wounded three Soul Reapers thus far and killed another, and required the attention of a senior officer with more power. Their resident substitute Soul Reaper was dealing with a similar problem further away in the city and therefore, the Lieutenant had been asked perform this task in his stead. She pulled the Hollow Tracker from within the folds of her uniform and held it up, waving it around until it locked onto a signal. A small green circle blinked on the grid with repeated chimes. _Found you!_ She thought with a smirk and jumped from her rooftop perch to the one across. She followed the indicator across the city, lightly hopping across the buildings as she tracked the malevolent monster. As the moon rose high overhead, she arrived in a tranquil park. The tracker was screaming and flashing furiously now. _It's close._

Rangiku shoved the tracker back into her uniform and placed a hand upon the hilt of her sword, her eyes narrowed as they flickered across the park. The clouds drifted across the moon, eclipsing the light and casting the world into shadow, making it difficult to see. It was empty, or so it seemed; a slight wind swept through the area, ruffling the feather-like blades of grass to fill the air with their whispers. The trees responded with trembling leaves, a song that drifted upon the wind. A small playground stood nearby, and a metal swing creaked loudly as it swung back and forth. Rangiku crept through the shadowy twilight like a lithe cat stalking her prey.

“Where are you?” she muttered under her breath as her piercing eyes drank in the night. The air hummed with an intense energy; the tension was mounting, and she could feel it bubbling in her blood. The Hollow was _here;_ she could sense it. It was creeping in the shadows on wicked claws baring its teeth in the night like the beast it was. She slunk across the park, the ends of her uniform brushing against the soft grass, just barely rustling. “ _Where are you?”_

It was then that Rangiku heard the crying.

She straightened up as the soft sobs echoed in the night, just barely audible. Her attention now captured, she followed the sound to the edge of the wooded area of the park. Darkness shrouded the tree trunks like a mist, and she squinted as she tried to identify the source of the sound. “Hello?” she called quietly, and the sobbing was abruptly stifled. “I won't hurt you.” A whimper echoed through the darkness, followed by some whispering that sounded like motivational pep-talk, then, slowly, a pair of big, innocent blue eyes peered at her from behind a tree. _It’s a little boy!_ He couldn't be older than five, with curly brown hair framing his chubby little face. She could tell from the soft glow emanating from his skin and the transparency of his form that he was a spirit. _How sad, for him to die so young._ “Come out,” she beckoned, holding out her hand for him. It was vital that she send him as quickly as possible, for he was definitely what the Hollow was after.

“But the monster will get me.” _So he has seen it._ The fear in his shrill voice was thick, and she could see the whites of his eyes in the stark blackness. Rangiku smiled gently and gestured to the sword resting at her hip.

“Don't worry. I’m here to slay the monster,” she assured him. He gazed at her wide-eyed for a moment, then slowly reached forward with a tiny hand. However, before their fingers even brushed, he recoiled with a squeak of alarm and vanished back into the shadow of the woods. Rangiku whipped around just in time to see a gigantic form lumbering toward her in the dark, and she threw herself to the side as the Hollow crashed into the tree line. The ground rumbled as the roots were torn from the earth and the tall trees groaned as they fell, crashing into the ground with snarling limbs and shivering leaves. As Rangiku rolled onto her belly and scrambled to her feet, the Hollow was shuffling around to face her, baring its pointed teeth at her. It was an ugly thing, its mask the effigy of a horned toad, with a skulking frame like a bloated goblin. “There you are!” she hissed and drew her sword from its scabbard, whirling it in her hand before pointing it at the monster. “Come! Let me rid you of your suffering!”

“The only suffering here shall be your agonizing _death,_ ” the Hollow snarled at her in its gurgling, gravelly voice before springing at her on all fours. Rangiku once more launched herself to the side, this time remaining on her feet and digging her sword into the Hollow's side as it barreled past. Its screech broke the silence of the night like a shattering mirror. It rounded on her with an inhuman roar, swiping at her with its clawed foot. Rangiku grunted as the spear-like talons clashed with her steel sword, driving her backwards; her feet dug trenches into the earth as she was forced over the ground. She clenched her teeth as her arms rattled violently. The Hollows laughter filled her ears as she fumbled over her feet, landing unsteadily a few feet away. “Hahaha! _This_ is the might of the Soul Reapers? _Pathetic!”_ he cackled. Rangiku tossed her head, spitting locks of her hair from her mouth.

“You haven't seen anything yet!” With a shout, she leaped at him, her blade leaving ribbons of light in its wake as it cleaved the air in two with a shrill whistle. “Yaaaaaaah!” she screamed as her sword bit into his bulbous black flesh, spilling bright red blood where its sharp teeth clenched. As the Hollow swiped at her like an angered cat, she ducked the blow and whirled around to rip her sword clean through his arm. As the stumped spewed blood, the limp limb flopped to the ground, still wriggling and twitching with nervous energy; the Hollow again screeched like a wailing siren. “How do you like that?” she cried as she spun on her heels to once more split his side like a ripping end seam, and the blood showered the ground like a summer rain. It slumped roughly onto its bleeding haunches, its intact paw gouging the earth as it struggled. “Be at peace,” Rangiku sighed as she planted her feet in front of it, her sword held high above her head.

“Ha! You fell for it!” the Hollow howled with devilish glee, and Rangiku's eyes grew wide as the beast lunged at her with its gaping maw extended to wrap around her. She had no means of evading or countering the lightning-fast blow, and there was a sickening crunch as its jaws sank deep into her flesh. Blood gushed from her body from her shoulder to her thigh, splattering across the ground like grotesque paint, and poured from her mouth as she coughed. As his teeth dug into her, she clenched her teeth against the pain to grip her sword tightly and jab it deep into the eye hole of his mask, piercing the flesh beneath. As it roared in agony, the hold on her was released, allowing her to scramble away and land in a heap in the grass. A low groan slipped from her mouth as she crawled on her belly, leaving a thick trail of blood behind her.

_I see… It would play wounded to lure us close, then strike when we let our guard down! No wonder it has been such a challenge…_

“Unh!” she grunted in pain as she rolled onto her back, weakly lifting her head to survey the damage done to her body. Though blood was streaming from her wound, it was relatively shallow due to her quick thinking, and she was likely to survive if she suffered no more wounds. However, that was much easier said than done.

“Get back here!” the Hollow snarled, crawling rapidly toward her. Rangiku went to scramble backwards, but in her weakened condition, her legs slid uselessly and would not propel her. She gripped her sword tightly, holding it out as some sort of meager threat. _I can't die here!_ She thought as the beast bore down on her.

_Ichigo! I haven't told Ichigo that I-!_

_“Raaaaaaaah!”_ The Hollow skidded to a halt and made an attempt to scurry back as Rangiku had just done as someone sailed over Rangiku's head, landing in front of her as they brought a massive blade down upon the startled Hollow. As it sliced its mask clean in two, light spilled from the gap, and with a low moan the Hollow dissolved before Rangiku's eyes. As the man in front of her straightened up, running a hand through his bright orange hair, Rangiku's head flopped down into the soft grass with a deep exhale.

“You have impeccable timing.” What were the odds of him showing up right as she thought of him? It was almost as if he had heard.

“I finished up early and thought I would give ya a hand. I’m glad I did,” Ichigo answered, leaning over her with a slight smirk as he planted his large sword into the ground. She glanced over at it; she had not yet had the opportunity to lay eyes upon his new weapon. It was similar to the old one, except it possessed a thicker blade with curves carved into the tip and the area where the blade met the hilt. It was still stupidly big, too. “Like it?” he mused when he noticed her staring.

“It's a bit flashy for my taste.” His face morphed into a dissatisfied grimace, making her laugh. That was a mistake, as pain bloomed across her belly and abdomen, making her wince and groan. “Ow… Damn…” Ichigo’s expression turned to one of concern, and he knelt down beside her to gently press one hand to her bleeding stomach. He moved to place one over her chest, but then blushed and looked at her as if asking for permission. “You’ve got to be joking! I’m gonna bleed to death here and you’re embarrassed?” she snapped at him, but her face was alight with pink, too. Part of it was the awkwardness, and part of it was the shameful part of her that _wanted_ him to touch her. He made a face at her, then hesitantly applied pressure to the laceration across her chest. The embarrassment soon took a backseat to the pain. “Oww!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, keeping his gaze trained on her body instead of her face. It was probably less embarrassing for him that way. “He got ya good.”

“I’ll live. I’m just gonna complain about it for a while,” she snorted with weak laughter, and she was glad to see a smile curl onto his thin lips. “Where is the little boy?” she asked suddenly, recalling the child spirit whom had been the Hollow's target.

“Little boy?”

“Lady!” Ichigo turned his head as the spirit came running out of the woods on chubby legs to arrive at her side. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah! You protected me from the monster!” he beamed brightly, revealing a kooky smile with a missing tooth. “I was pretty scared… That monster has been looking for me for weeks now. I thought he was gonna get me this time for sure!” Rangiku had not the heart to tell him that another monster would soon surface, intent on devouring his little soul. With a pained grunt, she reached for the hilt of her sword. “Hey, Lady, what are you doing?”

“There is a place I can send you where there are no monsters. You will be safe there, and you can find a family and live a happy life,” she answered and held up her sword, the hilt facing him. “This is the world of the living, little one. It is a dangerous place for a spirit like you.” The little boy pouted and glanced uncertainly at the swing set in the distance.

“… I was waiting for Mommy to come get me,” he murmured sadly. “We were on our way to see Daddy at work and were at the stop light when it turned green. Mommy went, but the truck didn't stop. I woke up while they were loading Mommy into the ambulance… But I was already dead. I tried to follow the ambulance to the hospital, but it was too fast. I came back here to wait for Mommy to come, because she knew I would be here. She hasn't yet.” He looked up with a small smile. “I guess that means Mommy is alive though, right? She would want me to be safe.” Tears began to stream down his round cheeks. “She would want me to go, right?”

“That’s right. A mother always wants her children to be safe,” Ichigo agreed and plopped a large hand onto his head, gently ruffling his curly locks. The boy nodded and swallowed shakily, looking uncertainly at the sword while he dried his tears.

“Does it hurt…?” Rangiku shook her head, and the boy nodded and closed his eyes. Stiffly, she placed the butt of her sword against his forehead, and when she pulled it away there was a glowing blue stamp. The boy began to glow softly, and he opened his eyes to once more grace her with those adorable blue lagoons. “Thank you, Lady. Get better soon, okay?” he grinned at her, flashing that missing tooth before his vanished into the light, traversing the gap between the human world and the Soul Society. With a small sigh, she let the sword drop from her hand and her arm flop into her belly. Her wound had ceased bleeding, but her uniform was still drenched with the thick liquid.

“Ugh. I feel gross,” she whined.

“You look gross.”

“Hey!” Ichigo grinned shakily down at her before grabbing his sword and wrenching it from the ground to sheath it upon his back; then, to her mixed shock, glee, and alarm, he slipped his arm beneath her back and legs to easily lift her from the ground. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m takin’ ya to Urahara,” he answered simply as he began striding purposefully across the park, seemingly unperturbed at carrying the woman in his arms. Rangiku's face was blazing like a raging fire and her heart pounding like a drum, on the other hand. “Ya know, it would help if you wrapped your arms around me. It's hard carryin’ someone who’s limp as a noodle,” he scowled after a minute of adjusting her a few times, and her face flared darker. She obediently leaned up to wrap her arms firmly around his neck, bringing her face up close to his. _Now… Now is the perfect time to tell him! But… I’m afraid…_ Instead, she just stared up at him like a frightened animal. “What's that look on your face for?”

“What look? I don’t have a look!” she stammered. He glanced down at her with that smirk, then his face dissolved into a thoughtful expression.

“Rangiku… To be honest, I wasn't just here to help ya out,” he admitted, and she knit her eyebrows quizzically in response. “I’ve been meanin' to ask ya somethin'.”

“Ask me something?” she echoed, her eyebrows creeping up her forehead. _Does… Does he have feelings for me? Does he want to-_

“Go on a date with me.”

A sensible girl may have gasped in shock, or beamed with delight and nodded furiously, or even cried a little. Not Rangiku. Rangiku wasn't sensible.

Rangiku _fainted._

“It must have been the blood loss,” she insisted as she sat leaned up against the wall in Urahara's shop with a cold rag pressed to her forehead. Ururu had wrapped her from her neck to her thigh, and her kimono was still bunched around her waist, as it was too painful at the moment to try and slip her arms into the sleeves to dress herself.

“Ya could've given me some kinda warning! I hauled ass here thinkin' you were gonna _die!_ ” Ichigo scowled as he stood beside her, arms crossed as he leaned up against the wall. He glared down at her, caught sight of the bandages stretched to their breaking point around her sizable bust, then glanced away with a raging blush. “And would ya put yer clothes back on? You’re not leavin' much to the imagination here!”

“How was _I_ supposed to know? You don't always feel that sorta thing coming!” she snapped back at him. “And I’ll put them on when I’m good and ready! This shit hurts!”

“Well, you sound like you're feeling better,” the shifty, hat-wearing man laughed as he sidled back through the door. Rangiku just pouted up at him. “I’ve sent word to the Soul Society. They’ll have someone along to collect you soon.”

“I can get home myself.”

“Shaddup! You're in no position to be doing anything!” Ichigo yelled at her while stamping his feet angrily, causing the wooden planks beneath her to vibrate violently. Urahara laughed heartily as he strode off, his sandals clicking against the floor, to attend to his business. Once he was gone, Ichigo slid down into a sitting position with a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You're giving me a headache.”

“You _are_ a headache!” she growled back. _A headache that I’m in love with,_ she thought dryly. He rolled his eyes at her, but within his irritated expression was the shadow of amusement.

“Say, ya didn't answer me.” _Oh. Right. I was too busy passing out,_ she thought with an inward groan. “So? Will ya go on a date with me?” Rangiku ought to rebuke him, stating that it was improper and that he was hundreds of years too early to be asking her on a date, but she did not.

“Okay,” she said instead. “I’ll go on a date with you.” As Ichigo beamed happily, a warm smile appeared on her face.

_Ichigo… One day I’ll be able to tell you I love you. Right now, though, this is enough._


	7. Love is a Great Thing

Rangiku hissed quietly as she lowered herself into a sitting position on the side of the hospital bed, the healing wounds in her chest and stomach protesting greatly to such a movement. Gingerly, so as not to enrage the wounds more, she wriggled out of her uniform. The bandages covering nearly the entire upper half of her body were spotted with small bloodstains, dyed by the leaking wound. _It’s been three days now. These wounds were much more severe than I thought._ Soul Reapers healed faster in the Soul Society, thanks to the abundance of spiritual energy, so the Lieutenant figured she would be mostly healed by now. _I told Ichigo that as soon as I was well enough, we could go on our date._ At the thought, a rosy tint spread across her cheeks. She tried to control her reddening face as there came a knock at the door and the medical officer that was replacing her bandages walked in. Normally Rangiku could handle it herself, but it was a massive area and a bit awkward trying to wind them around her back, so she had been coming to the medical division.

“Good! You’re ready to go. Let’s see how those wounds are looking!” There was a different one each time, some lower-ranking officer to tend to the relatively minor issue; all the upper-level personnel would be tending to things like Hollow wounds. If Ichigo had not taken her to Urahara instead, Rangiku is sure she would have seen one. This one was a plucky young girl, with a pixie cut of blonde hair. She sat down on a small stool in front of her and cut the bandages. Rangiku scowled slightly as the fluid and blood that had leaked from her body made them stick, pulling at her scabbed skin before reluctantly relinquishing the grip. _How gross…_ “The wounds are healing well!” the little medical officer stated cheerfully, completely unfazed by the ick. She tossed the soiled bandages aside and paused, sweeping her calculating eyes across the deep lacerations that decorated the middle of her chest and lower abdomen. “You should only need another day or so. Those were pretty serious wounds. If you hadn’t received immediate medical treatment, you very well could’ve died, Lieutenant.” The bubbly tone in her voice didn’t match the gravity of the words she had uttered.

 _I’m really glad Ichigo was there…_ she thought, and once more the blush spread across her face as she imagined him, muscles flexing as he swung around that absurd sword of his. _Oh, now is not the time for fantasies, Rangiku!_ “Oh? Why are you blushing? Are you embarrassed?” the attendant laughed. She had begun wrapping her in a new set of bandages, which could be compromising for someone unused to it, especially someone with Rangiku’s endowments. The senior officer shook her head adamantly, but blushed further.

“I was thinking about something else.”

“A boy, then?” the girl teased, and though she once again vigorously shook her head in refusal, her body betrayed her. Her red face was enough to give it away. “A-ha! You can’t hide it from me!” she laughed giddily. Young girls like herself were always giddy at the thought of love, even if it was a stranger’s love life and not their own. “How long have you been together?” She was beaming up at Rangiku, winding the bandages with expert care even though she was hardly paying attention to it. The lieutenant grimaced in embarrassment and looked down at the white sheets of the hospital bed.

“I don’t know if you could even qualify us as ‘together.’ He only asked me on a date a few days ago…” Rangiku wasn’t really sure about the logistics of such a thing. Beautiful woman that she was, men were usually intimidated by her looks, and therefore she had actually not dated many people. Were people “together” after the first date? She and Ichigo hadn’t even had one yet. Were people “together” as soon as someone asked them out? It was confusing and just made her face take on a darker hue. The little nurse found it quite amusing.

“You really don’t know how relationships work, do you?” As she teased her, Rangiku gave her a dour look. “I don’t mean to tease,” the girl giggled, implying otherwise. “It’s just refreshing that even a very beautiful woman like you is just as susceptible to the insecurities of love!” Rangiku narrowed her eyes as she glowered at the blissfully unaffected young girl, but really, she couldn’t be angry about it. She wasn’t wrong, after all. Still chuckling, the medical officer finished winding the bandages around Rangiku’s bust and secured them with a couple of adhesive patches and pins. “Well, I wish the two of you the best of luck. Love is a great thing!” she smiled warmly before standing and bowing respectfully to her. Rangiku laid back on the bed as she exited, somehow exhausted by the conversation.

_Good. I’ll need it._

After fixing her clothes and walking out of the medical corps’ headquarters- her body screaming at her all the while- Rangiku shuffled down the roads of the Soul Society. _Love is a great thing!_ Sure, that’s what everyone said, but it just made Rangiku nervous as hell. She didn’t know what she was doing, and she was almost certain she felt stronger than Ichigo did, even though he was the one to ask her on a date. She still didn’t know where her feelings even _came_ from. Grinding her teeth together, she tugged at her golden-orange hair and released something between a screech and a groan. _It’s maddening- and insane! What the hell was I thinking?_ Since the fight with the Hollow and her subsequent rescue, all she had been able to think about was the date and what would happen after.

Rangiku hadn’t been on a proper date in a long time- all her attempts to get Ichigo out of her head had just been drinking nights, hardly a deviation from what she did normally. Sure, she had clothes to wear in the human world- fashion was a very important thing to her, after all- but she didn’t know what kind of clothes Ichigo liked. Would he want her to look sexy? Probably not, blood practically burst from his nose anytime he saw too much of her cleavage. Plus, how should she act? There was no way she could be normal around him, not with her brain short-circuiting in her head every damn time he came up in her thoughts. Her head would probably explode from spending more than an hour with him. Then there was the _stigma_ to consider. She was a several-hundred-year Soul Reaper going out with a human boy, a high-schooler no less. Everyone would freak- except Rukia, because she more or less knew what was happening. She would never hear the end of it.

Common sense said it was a horrible idea, but damn it, Rangiku wanted to go on the date.

“I’m hopeless,” she muttered to herself in the street, shoulders sagging and feet dragging. Envisioning herself sitting across from Ichigo in some restaurant, laughing as their hands inched toward each other across the table, just made her too damn happy. _Love is a great thing,_ the little medical officer’s voice chimed in her head. A small smile made its way onto her lips as she remembered the way Ichigo looked at her when she was injured. A lot of worry, but there was something else too, a hint of affection that was always there regardless of what that person was doing; undoubtedly, it was the look that was the beginnings of love. Rangiku placed a hand over her heart, feeling it flutter like a newborn bird. _I’m positively hopeless._

“Hey! Rangiku!” The Lieutenant straightened up and glanced down the road as her name was called, drawn out of her fantasies and thoughts. Shūhei stood on the side of the street, looking adorably thuggish as usual, and she picked up her pace a little to jog over to him- as fast as she could with her injuries, anyway. “Heard you got knocked around pretty bad. Sorry I didn’t come see you sooner. I’ve been busy,” he said as he slid his hands into his uniform pockets. “Wanna go drinking tomorrow night?”

“I can’t.” It came out of her mouth quicker than she had even thought it, and immediately, her face blazed pink. _Shit! Now I have to tell him why!_ She had apparently mentally decided she was going to see Ichigo the following day, wounds healed or not. “I, um, am behind on my paperwork because of my injuries.”

“You lying bitch,” he refuted immediately, and she hunched her shoulders and pursed her lips at him, both because of his refusal of the lame excuse and the derogatory term. “Come on, Rangiku, tell me the truth! Is it because you don’t like me?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I go drinking with you all the time; that sure as hell isn’t the reason, you loser!” she cried and bonked him on the head with her fist, making him cry out and tenderly rub his head. “I said I was busy, so don’t ask me any more about it! It’s none of your business!” Really, her insistence and angry reaction was just making it worse, but her brain was like a toaster in a bathtub, sparking and completely useless. Really, she should have come up with a better excuse than the one thing on Earth she hated more than anything. Shūhei wasn’t giving up the interrogation.

“What are you hiding?” he demanded as he glared up at her, his hands still pressed to the top of his ashen-haired head. Rangiku clenched her jaw, at her breaking point, and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“I have a date, okay? Will you leave me alone?” That was the _wrong_ thing to say. Shūhei’s face took a hue nearly as dark as hers and his eyes widened dramatically.

“A date? What the hell you mean, a _date_?”

“What the hell you mean, ‘What the hell you mean’?” she screeched and whacked him over the head again, sending him down into a crouch. He whined loudly as he glared at her out of his peripheral vision, extremely pouty. She didn’t know why he was so damn clingy; he always got like this when she was friendly with other men, or some random person was putting the moves on her. She thought it was cute most of the time, but at the moment it was really grinding her gears. “What I do in my spare time has nothing to do with you!” she snorted as she whirled around so her back was facing him and put her nose in the air haughtily. She was so fired up that she barely noticed the pain from the jarring movement. “I’ll go drinking with you the day after tomorrow, okay?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who cares about drinking? I gotta know more!” he demanded, making her roll her eyes and glower over her shoulder at him. “Who is it?” At once, all her anger immediately dissipated and was replaced by the cold rush of fear. _There’s no way in hell I can tell Sh_ _ūhei!_ She fretted and turned her face away from him, pretending to still be irritated with him.

“I told you, what I do in my spare time has nothing to do with you!” _Now go away, you clingy bastard!_ She moved to march forward down the road, but he darted in front of her, his eyebrows knit together and tattooed face flushed. “I’m not telling you!”

“Why don’t you want me to know? I just want to make sure he’s a good guy for you, Rangiku!” Rangiku tried to shove him out of the way, knowing full well that his version of “checking to see if he was a good guy” involved a fistfight and some colorful words.

“He’s a great guy, and sure as hell tougher than you! I don’t need your protection, you know!” she snapped hotly. She expected him to keep at it, but he just threw his arms in the air with a dramatic sigh and flopped down onto his behind, hanging his head.

“I give up. You’re too much.” Again, Rangiku’s torrential emotions vanished, and she looked down at him with a small smile despite herself. Shūhei was annoying as hell sometimes, but she knew he cared about her a lot. He rubbed the back of his neck with pink cheeks, looking away from her in what could only be a display of acute bashfulness. “Bah, whatever. I want to hear all about it when we go drinking, understand? _Especially_ if he does you dirty. I gotta know everything so I can kick his ass.”

“No ass-kicking will be necessary,” she laughed. Though it had been a roller coaster, Shūhei talking to her had actually made her feel a lot less nervous. It was strange, considering they really hadn’t broached the topic in a lot of detail. She supposed she was just looking forward to telling him about it. He closed his eyes as he smiled wryly, and when he opened them again, her hand was extended to help him up. He snorted with a small smirk and took her hand, allowing her to help him back to his feet. “I’ll never win with you, huh?” He asked her with a funny look on his face, almost with that same amount of affection Ichigo had been looking at her with that day.

“What’s that mean?”

“Hey, Rangiku!” _Who is it **now?**_ She thought in annoyance, though by all rights she should recognize the voice. She just wasn’t in the mood to go through all that hell again. She turned to see Rukia approaching. “I heard you two shouting from down the street,” she chuckled and looked at her with those girlishly big eyes of her. “So, Ichigo asked you out?” All the blood instantly froze in Rangiku’s body, and though she opened her mouth to say something, only a wheedling whine and possibly her soul came out.

“ _Kurosaki?_ ” Shūhei screamed and whirled on her with an accusatory finger. “You’ve got to be shitting me! I lost to that brat?”

“What do you mean, ‘lost’?” Rangiku shouted and whirled back on him, finding that both their faces were now a burning red. “What the hell kind of competition are you having?” Shūhei didn’t answer, because he was too busy tearing at his hair and planking against the side of the nearest building. “ _Uuuuuuuuugh_ ,” Rangiku groaned as her entire body sagged. If she had been exhausted by the conversation with the nurse, this one had drained every ounce of energy she had.

“I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to say anything?” Rukia asked innocently with a tilt of her head as Rangiku looked back at her, droopy-eyed. Shūhei had gone silent, probably contemplating the various ways he would like to die at the moment, though Rangiku hadn’t the faintest notion why. He was just an obsessively clingy friend, she supposed. Rangiku wearily waved a hand at her; there was no helping that the cat was out of the bag now.

“It’s fine… Yes, Ichigo are going out tomorrow.” Rukia’s eyes began to sparkle with happiness and she clasped her hands together with a big smile. Rukia normally kept her emotions in relative check, hailing from a powerful family and all, but she was letting her happiness shine in all its brilliance.

“I’m glad that things worked out… Although Shūhei over there seems to be taking it quite hard.”

“Yeah, yeah, let him be a weirdo,” she sighed and looked over at him. He was still pressing his forehead against the building. “Come on, Shūhei, we can go drinking tonight, too.”

“Good. I need booze, lots of it,” he mumbled. Rangiku chuckled to herself and looked up at the sky of the Soul Society.

 _Love is a great thing._ That didn’t apply to just romantic love, either. Rangiku was glad she had friends who loved her, friends she could share this magical experience with.


End file.
